A Bouquet of Birthday Wishes
by KeepingUpDisappearances
Summary: Richard calls on Liz (as well as Hyacinth's sisters) to help plan a birthday party for Hyacinth, but just when it seems the plans are going along smoothly, a series of 'disasters' threatens to ruin the entire event! Liz narrates the story of how the 'best laid plans' can go awry.
1. Richard's Request

It was the warmest day of the most unusually warm summer that I could clearly remember. I had tired of being 'self-sequestered' in the house, and had just settled in the backyard under a shady tree, a frosty glass of iced tea in one hand, when I was interrupted.

"Telephone, Liz," my husband, Dean, said as he materialized before me. "Richard wants to talk to you."

"Richard? That's unusual," I said as I followed him back into the house. "Usually it's just Hyacinth who calls."

"Maybe he wants to come here for a break from _her_!"

"She's not as bad as she was, Dean, she really isn't," I insisted. He frowned doubtfully as I picked up the receiver. As he' been overseas due to his job for five years, he hadn't experienced the changes Hyacinth had acquired.

"Liz, I'm planning a birthday party for Hyacinth," Richard said after I had greeted him. "She's away for an hour, volunteering at the charity shop. Would you like to come over and help? I've got her sisters here, too."

"Of course!" I exclaimed. "Hyacinth is my friend and neighbor."

"Friend?" Dean said dubiously after I hung up.

"Yes, Dean. She _is_ my friend."

Five minutes later, Richard was escorting me into the Buckets' kitchen. As he had said, Daisy, Rose, and Violet were already there, and Richard quickly called us to attention.

"Well," he said, looking oddly flustered, "as all of you know, Hyacinth's birthday is next week, and I'd really like to make it special. I should've put more effort in after all these years. I invited everyone here because I want it to be _perfect_ and I need all the help I can get."

No wonder he seemed flustered, poor thing. He was setting such a high bar for this celebration—with good intentions, but overconfidence—grand aspirations. Many of Hyacinth's formal occasions had ended up in 'tragedy' this way. I glanced around at Hyacinth's sisters and they seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves now, Richard," Violet said tactfully. "Why don't we start with guests?"

"Oh, that's easy enough," Richard said. "I want it to be a nice, simple, family affair—so it'll be you and your sisters, and of course you and Emmett, Liz."

"Splendid!" Violet continued. "Now, I supposed a menu is the next thing to consider…"

…

It was almost an hour later when the 'planning committee' broke up; in fact, just a few minutes after I got back into the house, a taxi pulled up to the Buckets' driveway and Hyacinth stepped out. (Richard, to get out of chauffeuring Hyacinth in order to get us together for plans, had constructed some elaborate excuse that I couldn't even remember five minutes later, yet obviously it had worked).

"You're back, finally!" Dean said, smiling. "Is the party planned, now?"

"Yes," I said, "and I'll be helping Richard exclusively."

"I think you're getting a bit too _friendly_ with Richard," Dean teased.

"Ha, ha. Very funny. Don't you start spreading rumors!" I pretended to chide him.

It was nice to have Dean back for good, and it had been five years too long. His job overseas, managing an oil extraction corporation in Saudi Arabia paid fairly well, but it wasn't worth being far apart for so long, though he had of course come for visits. Now he was manager at a local bank.

I returned to the back yard and finished my iced tea, and mulled over the plans for Hyacinth's birthday party.

**..**

The following day, Richard, who was told by Hyacinth to pick up some groceries, met me afterwards at a rather upscale food shop. We were doing quite well, selecting a number of special but tasteful foods, when in one aisle we came upon the Major. The Major looked at us with an odd grin and said, almost too loudly:

"Why, _hello_, Richard! You and Mrs. Warden seem to be enjoying each other's company."

There was a tone in his voice that I did not like.

"We're planning a party for Hyacinth," I said coolly, looking the old veteran directly the eye.

His tone changed significantly. "Oh. Ohh…well, could I be of any help? I certainly would like to help your fine lass, Richard. She is quite the woman in every way!"

A furious expression briefly crossed Richard's face. I had often wondered what Richard thought of the Major's untoward attraction to Hyacinth, and now I knew. Richard, however, proved to be more creative than I thought (with all due respect) for he said quite genially to the elderly man:

"Well, if you want to help, you could go to the field just outside the dairy farm on Wyton Road. I think there may be some bluebonnets there—those are Hyacinth's favorite flower. They're a bright blue and the petals have white edges. Easy to find."

"Certainly, certainly!" the Major said eagerly. Anything to help the town's most prominent woman in social circles."

"Could you bring them with their roots intact?" Richard asked. "I think she'd like to have some growing alongside the walk."

"Certainly, certainly," the Major repeated. "Why don't you come by my place tomorrow afternoon? I should have them by then."

Richard told me the next day, as we had a little chat in his front garden, a quite amusing tale. He said that the Major had ushered him into the greenhouse, 'babbling apologies' and shoving an extravagant bird-of-paradise flower, in an equally elaborate flowerpot, into his hands. Richard noticed that there were several bandages on the veteran's hand.

"I Fhere were no bluebonnets, Richard, my friend," the Major had apologized profusely. "I hope that your lovely lady will not be too disappointed. Give her my regards."

Then, Richard said, the Major had winced visibly and said:

"There was an awful lot of brambles, though."


	2. An Dubious Start

"Well, we've certainly stepped up our menu! Pesto? Greek hummus? Red wine vinaigrette?"

Looking up from a book entitled _Flower Arrangements for Any Occasion_, I grinned at Dean, who was rifling through the refrigerator, scrutinizing the food that was on the menu for the party.

"Don't you start thinking I'll be cooking something fancy for you," I said with a laugh. "Some of those things are for Hyacinth's party. I'm making appetizers, three main dishes, lemon gelatin, and cake."

Dean stared. "All that for one birthday party?"

"Richard actually wanted a lot more, and even fancier. Bless his heart, he wants Hyacinth's party to be just right, but there _is_ something called 'overplanning'. You'd think Richard would know it, after all of Hyacinth's ruined social aspirations."

Dean glanced over a shelf that was filled with two jars of candied cherries, a bottle of fudge sauce, a tin of unsweetened cocoa, and a bag of shredded coconut. He glanced from the refrigerator from me with a questioning look.

"A dark chocolate fudge cake, topped with cherries and coconut," I said. "Richard asked me to do the cooking, and I really do enjoy it."

"You've always been a good cook—but what an undertaking!" Dean exclaimed.

…

The party plans went smoothly, and everyone on the 'committee' quickly realized that it really wouldn't take a week. The decorating (we were hosting the party at the Buckets' dining room) were tasteful but not complicated.

I was looking forward to the party; I really did consider Hyacinth a friend and hoped this party would be a special memory for her. We had it all planned out; Richard would get Hyacinth out of the house for an hour, right before the party would start. I would make 'last minute' dishes in the Buckets' kitchen while Daisy and Rose decorated the dining room, and Richard would return to escort Hyacinth into the dining room and surprise her!

I should have known things were going too smoothly to work. The first problem occurred when I tried a cherry gelatin with a whipped cream topping. Not one of those powdered, instant gelatins but the homemade kind, which tasted much better. _Easy enough,_ I thought. _It just takes a little more effort to make_.*

How wrong I was.

"Why won't the sugar stop clumping?" I fretted to myself, stabbing the lumpy sugar and trying to stir it into the cherry juice.

_You idiot, Liz!_ I chided myself. _You should have sifted the sugar _first_!_ Frustrated, I threw away the mixture and began again. By that time, Dean arrived from home—causing me great alarm, for I realized how late it must be. Glancing at a clock that hung above the oven, I groaned. It was five o'clock, and I still had a number of dishes to make before Hyacinth's party, which was early afternoon the next day!

_Okay,_ I thought wildly. _I'll skip the cool water mixing and put it into hot water right away. Speed it up a little. It'll just have to sit a bit longer in the refrigerator._

Feeling a little more confident, I went to work on the cake, and the batter turned out all right. I slipped the cake into the oven and smiled in relief. Things were going to be okay. Now it was time to go to the florist's shop to pick up the flowers I'd ordered for Hyacinth's party. Oh, they _would_ look so wonderful on the table! My finesse at flower arrangement definitely would add just the right touch to the décor.

_Careful, Liz,_ I had to remind myself, _don't you start becoming vain!_

Being breezy and slightly overcast that day, I decided to walk to the florist's shop. It was a welcome contrast to the very warm days that had preceded it. Whistling cheerfully, I walked into Maggie's Floral House.

"An order for Elizabeth Warden, please," I said to girl at the counter.

"Certainly, ma'am. I'll be back in a moment," she returned.

Five minutes later she came back, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we don't have an order for you."

"I ordered them four days ago," I protested.

The clerk took a large logbook from under the counter and studied it for nearly two minutes, but when she looked up again, her frown was apologetic, and I felt rather annoyed. I had placed an order for blue hyacinths and pink periwinkles, and this was the only florist's shop in town that offered hyacinths.

"I _know_ I placed an order," I said sharply. "Ten stalks of blue hyacinths, three bunches of pink periwinkles."

The clerk's eyes widened. "We don't offer those. Our collection is very _exclusive_."

_Hyacinths and periwinkles _are_ exlusive,_ I thought, but did not say.

A moment later, she blinked. "Oh! You may have accidentally called Magaret's Floral Works! People have gotten confused before."

Fantastic.

"And where is that shop?" I ventured.

"Two towns over, in Chesterbrook."

I groaned. Chesterbrook was thirty miles away. I returned to my house in order to fetch the car. As Hyacinth might have said, it is so _very_ careless to have two businesses whose names sound similar. During the entire drive to Chesterbrook, I kept refusing to admit that the mix-up was my fault—if I started out the preparations by making mistakes, how would the party even go on?

…

*According to the Internetz, gelatin is fairly easy to make from scratch, but I'm taking a little artistic liberty here.


	3. How It Ended

I cannot say that I was in the best of moods when I finally came to the right florist's shop, and when I finally received and paid for the correct order, I drove home as quickly as safety would allow. By the time I was home, however, it was past seven o'clock. I ate a hasty supper—if I had to stay up 'til midnight to finish the preparations, I would.

"I must admire your spirit, Liz," Dean said, pausing at the table where I was carefully putting a ribbon around a bunch of periwinkles.

"Anything for a friend," I said distractedly.

"I must admit, Mrs. Bucket _is_ more tolerable," he continued. "It's like I'm in some alternate universe."

I looked up long enough to give Dean a taunting grin. "Glad to hear you admit it."

Then something else came to mind.

"Dean, would you check on the gelatin in the refrigerator? It should be well set by now—I'll garnish it tomorrow."

Dean 'obeyed' immediately and strode off to the kitchen, and I concentrated on putting a few stalks of periwinkles and hyacinths into the water-filled china vases. Yes, that _did_ look lovely. I then put aside the two vases and was about to begin another arrangement when Dean came back and spoke up hesitantly.

"The gelatin is set, but…well, you'd better come look."

The condition of the gelatin was both disheartening and humbling. So much for my shortcut! There were thick, pasty, dark red streaks throughout the whole dessert; boiling the mixture too soon, and too fast, had evidently thickened it too much in places.

"_Dam_nation!" I exclaimed, unapologetically.

Well, that only left the cake, which I'd left in Dean's hands, as it were, instructing him to turn off the oven when the timer stopped. Luckily, _it_ was alright; I iced it and put it carefully away in the refrigerator, and returned to the flowers. When all of the vases were filled, I looked at them approvingly and smiled. Things would go well, after all—I just needed to keep my wits about me.

At that moment, I hear a yell and then a groan from outside. _Dean!_ I raced to the front yard, where I saw Dean splayed out over the brick garden border next to the side of the driveway.

"Ye Gods, Dean!" I exclaimed, glad that he hadn't gotten in worse trouble. I hurried over to him and helped him stand up.

"What happened?" I demanded. "And you're bleeding! Look at your knees!"

As I hurried Dean into the house, he explained.

"There was a squirrel at the tulip bulbs. I ran to stop it!"

"Well, you could have watched where you were going!" I scolded. "Dean, you're dripping blood! Hurry along!"

I nearly dragged him along and he stumbled after me. In my blind haste to get him to the bathroom before blood ended up on the carpet, I ran into a table on the way—the table that held the vases of flowers. There was a loud shattering sound as they hit the glass table top.

_No! NO! Why is this happening to me?_

I left Dean in the bathroom, leaving him to his own devices, and hurried to the table. The beautiful vases were shattered and the petals on the flowers were limp and soggy due to the water. I sighed heavily. The only thing that had gone right was the cake. Richard would be so disappointed—and worse, the party we'd all wanted to be so special for Hyacinth was _ruined!_

_**...**_

_**At the party…**_

"Oh, this _is_ a surprise!" Hyacinth exclaimed, looking around the dining room at the last-minute decorations, but I felt miserable. _She doesn't know how good the 'old' decorations were._

I tried to smile and make my "I'm glad you're pleased!" sound sincere, but Hyacinth looked at me oddly.

"What's wrong, Elizabeth?"

"We'd had so much more planned," I confessed. "But I ruined some of your favorite desserts and it's just the cake now…and these aren't the flowers we wanted in the beginning—I destroyed the other ones, and they were so much prettier. By accident, of course, but still—we wanted everything to be wonderful for you!"

I looked down, feeling embarrassed.

"What happened?" Hyacinth said, sounding sympathetic, so I told the story over a main course of lemon chicken and salad (there'd been a side dish of shrimp fondue and crusty bread planned, but I'd burnt the bread and had accidentally let the shrimp thaw too long, and they'd spoiled).

When I finished the story, Hyacinth _laughed_, to my surprise and disgust. How _could_ she laugh after I had so very hard to make things absolutely wonderful? I mumbled an excuse about needing to go home, but Hyacinth looked directly at me, and I knew she could tell I was bluffing. I sat down in my seat again and glared back. I shouldn't have been so rude, but my nerves had been sorely tested recently.

"Elizabeth, I didn't mean any harm," Hyacinth said as her sisters, Richard, and Emmett exchanged worried looks. "I appreciate your efforts, and I just wanted to help your laugh this off. A number of _my_ plans have gone awry—some worse than this!"

"Yes, that is true," I said reflectively, and then laughed outright. "Haste makes waste, am I right?"

"That's the spirit!" Hyacinth approved, and then smiled slyly. "I see a possible accident ahead—and I know how to avoid it."

"Which is?" I said, playing along.

"Don't put a candle for each year of my life on the cake. That's guaranteed to start a fire!"

I laughed. "Good idea."

_**~Fin~**_

* * *

_**Well, there you have it, folks-hope you enjoyed this, my last KUA fic.**_


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